


Maybe Baby

by LuxKen27



Series: Happily Ever After [1]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Post-Canon, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 14:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11534535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxKen27/pseuds/LuxKen27
Summary: Post-canon. First in a new series. If it came down to a choice between having her, or having a child of his very own, then he would choose her every time.





	Maybe Baby

**Author's Note:**

> _Author’s Note_ : Written for the [2017 Summer Mini Challenge prompt](https://luxken27.dreamwidth.org/783333.html) hollow. 
> 
> **DISCLAIMER:** The _Baby-sitters Club_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 1986 – 2000 Ann M. Martin/Scholastic Corporation. No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.

~*~

“Janine,” he said quietly, “I want to have a baby.”

Charlie Thomas gazed into the bathroom mirror, carefully studying his reflection. He wanted to sound eager, but not desperate, when he talked to his wife. She knew how important it was to him to start a family, and he knew that she didn’t share his overwhelming desire for it. They’d had more than one long discussion about it while they were still dating, and their positions were clear: while it had been one of his major deal breakers, she was rather diffident about it. She wasn’t opposed to the idea of having children someday, but she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the idea of getting pregnant. 

He could understand that. Janine had worked hard to build her career as a respected physicist. She worked long hours, splitting her time between teaching and research, but even with all of her gifts (her certified genius level of intelligence, her tenure-track appointment at MIT), it had been a long, hard slog. Physics was still very much a man’s field, and she’d had to accomplish twice as much as her colleagues in order to receive the same amount of appreciation. Losing even a year of career development at this point would put her in a precarious position. She wanted – _needed_ – to be established in her profession before she’d even consider motherhood.

It wasn’t fair, but then – as he was quickly learning – very little in academia was.

Not that his field was any easier. He’d lost count of how many of his fellow social workers had left their jobs in the last five years due to burnout, or heartbreak, or both. They were so understaffed that new hires were immediately overloaded with their backlog of cases. DCF was under constant pressure from the state government to close cases as quickly as possible, and they worked hard to do so, but were at the mercy of the family court system. The wheels of justice turned much too slowly, and too many children were lost in the meanwhile.

Charlie’s heart broke for his young clients, most of who were born into circumstances they hadn’t asked for and couldn’t control. He supposed he should’ve been grateful for the fact that the lion’s share of his cases were due to neglect instead of abuse, but it didn’t make the aftereffects any less difficult to deal with. So many of his clients had trust issues; even when they were placed in better situations, with competent caregivers, the hollow suspicion lingered in their eyes.

He could relate, on some level. His own father had walked out of his life when he was ten, and he’d seen the way it had affected his mother and his younger siblings. It had been very difficult for all of them. They’d pulled together as a family, and had done the best they could, but there had been a lot of lean years, when money was tight and his mother especially stressed. His parents had had a no-fault divorce, but he’d never seen it that way. His father had never taken his fair share of the blame, and had never paid his fair share of the price.

Their story, at least, had a happy ending. After the better part of a decade, his mother had remarried, to a wonderful man who was in diametric opposition to her first erstwhile spouse. Watson Brewer was an upstanding pillar of his community, was fiercely supportive of his own children, and had welcomed Charlie and his siblings (and all of their chaos) with open arms. He became the father figure Charlie had never had, was the reason his own trust issues were minimal, and his excellent example of fatherhood had only fueled Charlie’s desire for children of his own. 

He’d helped raise his youngest siblings since he himself was a kid. He’d become a social worker because of his innate, driving need to take care of those most vulnerable in the world. His caseload at work was only getting harder; he struggled against becoming too attached to his clients, balancing their need for an impartial advocate with his desire to take them all in and lavish them with the love they so obviously craved.

It didn’t take a genius to realize what the solution was. His biological clock was ticking so loudly that it was keeping him up at night.

He looked himself squarely in the eye.

“Janine,” he tried again, the conviction now resonating in his tone, “I want to have a baby.”

~*~

Their apartment was a modest two-bedroom in a nondescript complex in the heart of Cambridgeport, not far from the MIT campus or his field office. They’d converted the second bedroom into a shared office, though Janine used it far more than her husband. That’s where he found her now, huddled over a pile of papers, her desk lamp offering a soft white glow in the otherwise darkened room.

For a long moment, he simply gazed at her, his heart steadily gaining traction in his chest. Grading was the bane of her existence; it was almost midnight, and she didn’t appear to be close to being finished. She wasn’t one to let her frustration rise to the surface, however; even now, she was calm and steady, giving careful consideration to each answer as she marked the tests, the first of the semester. How her students did on their first exam set the standard for how they fared for the rest of her class, so she took the time to be thorough.

He loved that about her. She never made rash or impetuous decisions; it was a rare moment indeed when her heart overruled her head. That didn’t mean she lacked passion, however; she had an intense interest not only in her work, but in him. They’d started having sex a mere six weeks into their relationship – basically at the first time of asking – and their ardor had yet to abate. Her willingness to go to bed with him so soon after they had started dating had surprised him, but he certainly hadn’t complained!

Their sexual chemistry was beyond amazing, even now, nearly seven years later. Even just looking at her was enough to make his heart beat faster. As straitlaced and conservative as she was in real life, she was just as open and carefree in bed, her inhibitions slipping away, quite naturally, sometimes in exciting and insatiable ways. She was an active participant in their lovemaking, which only made it better for him; he loved that she had agency, that she told him what she did and didn’t like, that she owned her pleasure as well as her ability to pleasure him.

They had not been each other’s firsts, but they had grown and learned together, and enjoyed each other on a very regular basis. They’d both been graduate students when they’d first gotten together, and had developed a nonverbal signal to indicate their desire for intimacy, perfect for use in both thunderously loud venues and quiet sanctuaries alike. One of his favorite ways to make her blush was to remind her of all the slightly inappropriate places they’d had sex during their student days.

Even now, they still used their signal. He was tempted to use it at that moment – to walk over to her desk, to brush her hair aside, to bend down and press a kiss to the nape of her neck. His eyes hooded as he leaned against the doorframe, his blood heating in his veins. Here was the other upside to starting a family: all of the glorious “practice” said process might require.

He held himself in check, however. As much as he wanted to have a baby, she was ultimately the one who would have to carry it, and thus, it was ultimately her decision to make.

His heart skipped a painful beat as this sobering reality settled over him. As part of their marriage agreement, she had promised him that she would not deny him children. He believed that she would keep her vow, but he would not force her to. She had so much more at stake: her career prospects, her health. He loved her too much to make her risk any of it. 

If it came down to a choice between having her, or having a child of his very own, then he would choose her every time.

Janine looked up just then, as if sensing his lingering presence in the doorway. Her expression softened with a smile as she stood and reached out to him. He took her invitation, crossing the room and sweeping her into an embrace, hugging her close before easing away and brushing his mouth across hers. 

“Mmm,” she sighed, leaning into him, her exhaustion evident as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Why are you still up?”

He swallowed hard. “I wanted to talk to you,” he replied, smoothing his hands up the planes of her back. 

“I apologize,” she murmured with a yawn. “I loathe teaching introductory courses – the grading is interminable, especially at the beginning. What, I ask you, is so difficult to grasp about the basic laws of physics?”

He quirked a smile, unwilling to answer that. “Can you take a break?” he asked instead. “Or – are you done for the night, maybe?”

She lifted her head, gazing at him speculatively. “What’s going on?” she asked, her expression growing concerned. 

“Nothing,” he assured her, squeezing her shoulders. “I just – I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

“Of course,” she responded, touching his cheek. Her eyes searched his for a long moment, and then she gestured for him to sit as she sank back into her chair.

He perched against her desk instead, his hands at his sides, his fingers curling into the underside of the polished wood. “Janine,” he started, swallowing hard over the lump fast rising in the back of his throat. “I want to have a baby.”

She blinked, her expression unchanging as she stared beyond him, into the middle distance. 

“It’s time, I think,” he continued quietly. “We’ve been together for seven years, married for almost two. We both have steady jobs, we’re in good places in our careers, we’ve saved up some money…” 

He trailed off, practically willing her to say something, _anything_. Yes, no, maybe so? He could work with any answer, other than total silence.

His grip on her desk tightened, until his knuckles blanched white. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you,” he told her, “but you know how much this means to me.”

She nodded. “Yes, I know,” she commented.

He chewed on his lip. “Do _you_ want to have a baby?”

She averted her eyes, clasping her hands in her lap. “I don’t know,” she admitted, so softly that he almost missed it. 

His heart clenched in his chest as he regarded her, wringing her hands in a rare show of anxiety. The lump in his throat grew larger. “Have you even thought about it?” he finally managed to choke out.

Her eyes shot up to meet his. “Of course I have!” she burst out, reaching for his hand. “I know what having a child means for you!”

He squeezed her fingers, heartened by her response. 

“I just…” She sighed, slumping back into her seat. “I just don’t know what it means for _me_.” She held his hand in both of hers, running her thumbs over his knuckles. “I need to think about this.”

He nodded. “I understand,” he murmured.

She brought his hand to her face, resting her cheek against the backs of his fingers. “Do you?”

He turned his wrist and cupped her face, tracing the delicate crest of her cheek. “Of course I do,” he assured her. “Take all the time you need, because it’s ultimately your decision. I love you. I trust you.”

He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you,” he reiterated.

“I love you, too.” Her breath was shaky as it moved across lips. 

He nodded, and stood. “I think I’m going to call it a night. Don’t stay up too late, okay?” he added, nodding to her tall stack of papers, still waiting to be graded.

She picked up her pen. “I won’t,” she promised. She offered him a watery smile. “Goodnight.”

He brushed his fingers through her hair before turning to leave. “Goodnight.”

~*~

It was much later when he stirred, feeling the mattress shift beneath him as she slipped into their bed. He relinquished a portion of the covers, but otherwise didn’t move, still lost in the depths of sleep.

It wasn’t until he felt the press of her lips on the nape of his neck that his mind fully roused to consciousness. He opened his eyes and realized that the room was still awash in the darkness of the night. He felt his wife’s hands encircle his arms, the soft press of her breasts against his back, her mouth forging a lazy trail along the line of his shoulder.

“Janine?” he muttered groggily, feeling pleasantly ensnared in the sheets.

“Mmm,” she replied, sliding her tongue from the base of his shoulder blades to the top of his neck, eliciting an excited gasp in response. She repeated the caress, rising up to nip on his earlobe, and he could feel the tight buds of her nipples gliding across his back, sending ripples across his skin.

He moaned, his eyes rolling back as her body came more fully into contact with his, bare skin next to bare skin. This was highly unusual; she always wore a nightgown to bed, even when they intended to do exactly what they were doing now. He reached back, skimming his hand down the length of her body, and felt no resistance when he arrived at her hip.

Oh, God. She wasn’t wearing panties, either. Was it possible that he was dreaming?

No, he decided, gripping her warm and very real hip with one hand, while the other moved to free his sudden raging erection. He rolled onto his back, and she moved with him, straddling his hips, closing her hand over his and guiding him home, the heel of her free hand digging into his shoulder as she slid down over him, joining their bodies together in one swift move, sheathing him to the hilt.

He moaned again as he felt her inner muscles tighten around him, and he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close, his mouth finding hers in a deliciously hot kiss. She responded in kind, her hands curling into his hair as they tumbled over in the bed until she was on her back. He pressed the full length of his body into hers, his hands sliding down to cup her backside before moving lower, squeezing the backs of her thighs and drawing her legs even further apart.

They continued to kiss as their bodies found a familiar rhythm, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. He loved her with aching abandon, an overwhelming tide of urgency rising and crashing over him, pushing him to move harder and faster. She fisted her hands in his hair, purring encouragement in the back of her throat, and she clutched him close as he came, her knees closing around his hips, her elbows capturing his shoulders, her nails raking across his scalp.

He fought to catch his breath as he lay atop her, sweat pouring over him in the wake of sudden exertion. He nipped at her lips, enjoying the taste of her perspiration mingling with his, and reached down between their bodies, finding and fondling her clit with practiced ease. She arched into him, her chest heaving, and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself into him as she let herself go, her hips rising to meet his, her release reverberating through him.

“Holy shit!” he gasped, resting his forehead on hers. Even after seven years and countless acts of lovemaking, she could still surprise him. He chuckled in wonderment. “Can we make this a habit?”

She smiled, slicking his hair back from his brow. “Perhaps,” she teased.

He kissed her again as he gently disentangled their bodies, sliding over onto his side, and he watched her covertly as he adjusted his underwear. The last time she’d slept naked in their bed had been on the first night of their honeymoon, when they’d both been too exhausted to bother with clothes. She’d not been without a nightgown since then, but right now she seemed much more interested in him than her relative state of undress.

She curled into him almost immediately, resting her head next to his on his pillow. “I want you to know that I’d never deny you anything,” she told him, her tone serious, “not in the least, your heart’s desire.”

It took him several seconds to realize what she was saying. “You mean – we’re going to – have a baby?” he breathed, those final words rushing out in a hushed voice.

Her eyes searched his. “Eventually,” she promised him, suddenly sounding rather shy. “I have been investigating the consequences of ceasing my birth control regimen. It could take three to six months to re-regulate my hormones – ”

He cut her off with a kiss, wrapping his arms around her, bringing her body flush against his own. Tears prickled behind his eyes as he rested his head in the hollow of her neck. “Thank you,” he whispered into the pillow.

He felt her smile as her arms closed around him, her hands rising to stroke his hair in a loving caress.


End file.
